


War

by Imoto_kun



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU, Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Futuristic, M/M, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-14 01:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11772654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imoto_kun/pseuds/Imoto_kun
Summary: The year is 2YXX. Seven countries have made an alliance of peace and cooperation: Sweden, Germany, Italy, France, Spain, England, and the United States, ruled by families of royalty who seeked the good for their people and their alliances, power that passed from one generation to another, yet had the vulnerability to be replaced.Germany has been blessed with a princess who grew to be known as the most beautiful woman in all of Seven Lands.The United States have been given a prince whose only goal was to take what he desires.Mihael Keehl is the son of the German Royalty, who in a twist of events and a promise for war, meets Mail Jeevas, the undesired offspring of the USA king.Could their new friendship grow bigger, or will it vanish before it even started?





	1. Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I really hope you'll enjoy this story. I will try updating once a month. Most of the stuff I already have written, but soon I'm going to start studying again, so I might not have much time to write new material.
> 
> Please leave comments and reviews. I love reading what you guys have to say!
> 
> Stay tuned,
> 
> M.E

"What a divine woman."

"Yes. It is said that she has the prettiest hair of all women in the seven kingdoms."

"It is said she has the most mesmerizing eyes."

"Haven't you heard? She is said to be the most beautiful woman of all."

After decades of global conflicts, in search of peace, 7 countries have become allies: Sweden, Germany, Italy, France, Spain, England and the United States. Each country, in order to keep the peace between them, decided to have a king to rule them, of absolute control, title passing from father to son, but who had the fragility of being replaced if the people were dissatisfied and demanded a change of administration. They'd be representatives of the country, with counselors and assistants, and their first and foremost interest should be their people's well-being. The kingdoms lived in peace and harmony, cooperating, helping, making decisions that would not harm any of the unity and improve the life of the kingdoms as a whole. Long after the unity has formed and stability has settled, a beautiful princess was born to the king and queen of Germany, growing to be a beautiful woman- the most beautiful woman and queen of all the seven lands; In the United States, on the other hand, the queen gave light to a prince, growing to be a greedy king.

"What a pretty child was born!"

"She inherited her mother's golden strands and crystal blue eyes."

"She will grow to be as pretty as her as well."

"Foolish people! Haven't you heard? The child is a boy!"

On December 13, the german kingdom received a prince. His hair was blond like his mother's and eyes as blue as the seawater that met the german lands at its' shore. Instead of naming him after his father, they named him Mihael, believing that a new name showed a new start, with a different and better future for the country, and with enough luck, to all the seven lands.

On February 1st, a month and a half later, the USA gained a new prince as well, following by the name of Mail. His brown hair, seeming like the mud of winter that have been stepped by many travellers, and dark blue eyes, that were the color of the sky that can't quite decide whether it's already yesterday or yet a tomorrow, didn't seem like the father, and too alike the mother. Unlike Mihael, he was not described as beautiful, his features were not eye-catching and didn't receive fame outside of the country's borders, yet his mother was sure he'll be a better ruler than all the previous ones.

One winter, the king of the United States heard of the queen of Germany, named Ada, and her beauty- of the rumors of her being the most beautiful woman yet to live. Not believing, and perhaps in search of repayment for his own unluck that slept besides him in his bed, he planned a trip to her kingdom.

"Mello dear, the king from the seventh country is coming today. Please, accept the help of the maids this time in getting ready. You know how important it is for us to impress our guests, especially the noble people that are our allies."

Mello was in the library, lying on the carpet, surrounded by books he has yet to read or have finished, the current book he was reading in his hands. For a 10 years old, this book would be too complex. But to him, it was like reading a regular kids' book.

"Why do _I_ have to dress up to impress them? I'm only ten!" He said in irritance. When having to overwork himself for others' impression of him was the only time he'd ever use his young age as an excuse to be dismissed. In any other occasion, he'd get pissed of the exclusion for being so young.

"Because you are going to take over this place one day, Mihael. You need to make friends, and you know that the sooner the better." His mother bent down and picked up a neat pile of books (the satisfaction made her child put the books away gently, differentiating them from the ones he has yet to read that were in a messy pile). With a delicate movement of the wrist, she returned each one to where it belonged.

Mello sighed. "I know, mom. But I dislike each king and queen from the other countries. All have a plan to take over the seven lands one day and be the only ruler. Why doesn't father start with that too? He'll be a fool and lose first!"

His mother stumped on the carpeted floor. "Mihael Keehl! I do  **not**  like it when you talk about your father like that! You know he is doing his best to keep this country standing, and also to keep others from attacking us. He is not a fool and will not let this country lose, even if it means being the only person left to battle!"

Mello sighed again, closing the book in a snap and putting it back in place with anger. "Yet he doesn't prepare to be the one overcoming the others in case it  **will**  happen, now, is he?" He didn't even let his mother respond, when he turned around sharply and walked away, leaving her to watch him go. She pursed her lips, sighing.

_'What a complicated child...'_

 

 

Mihael broke the cup his maid had brought to him by letting it slip to the floor. Feeling sorry, he bent down and helped her get the sharp pieces, not noticing he was holding to them too tight in his palm until the maid dropped everything to the floor again with a gasp. She grabbed a white towel from the little stroller she came in with and made him drop all the pieces as well, covering the red hand and trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

"I'll get the doctor, Mr. Keehl. Wait here, and don't let the towel loose." Rushing outside, her footsteps were getting quieter and quieter, until completely fading.

By the time the doctor came, Mello had already cleaned up all the mess, and the towel was stained in crimson red.

He got a bandage wrapped around his hand, which made his natural beauty dim, even though the black suit he was wearing made his fair figure stand out. He was all ready when his mother had grabbed his arm and pulled him downstairs to welcome the guest in the big entrance hall.

"Mother, was the king the only one to come?" Mello asked when he saw, through the glass decorating the door, three figures coming close, all male.

"Yes, my dear," she responded.

One of the men stopped in place, taking the other's coat (Mello concluded that was the king) and bowing before returning to the car.

"What is he here for?" Mello kept asking, not understanding.

"He is here to see me, honey."

"Why is that?"

She looked at him and smiled. "He has heard stories of me being the prettiest woman, and wanted to see if that was true." And to add a little happiness to her child, and maybe a glimpse of hope it will make him try to impress the visitor, she said, "And to see if she really had the most beautiful child."

Mello smiled to himself. Feeling proud, he stood tall and waited until the other opened the door for the king.

The USA king had dark ginger hair with green eyes, a crooked nose and big and fuzzy eyebrows, a few light freckles covering his cheeks. He seemed juvenile and determined, broad shoulders and a sharp jawline, with a cheerful smile and confident attitude. The king came to greet his friend, Abelard III. Next to him, Abelard seemed much prettier than anyone noticed. His blond hair was tamed and shining, and his blue eyes were sparkling with pleasure. His smile melted everyone's hearts, just like it did to his wife's.

"And this is your woman, I believe," said Matthew. He bowed down and kissed her silky hand. "She is as pretty as rumors go. Ada is your name, am I right?"

The queen gave him a sweet smile. "It is. It's nice to have you come visit, king."

In response, the king waved his hand. "Call me Matthew, please. A beautiful woman as you should be the one getting the respect and honor."

The german king laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulder with protective instincts, sensing the possessiveness forming inside the redhead's mind. "You are more than right, my friend. Now, dinner is prepared. Shall we go?"

They sat on the wide table, each king in each end of the table, the queen on the right side of the native king, and the kid to his left.

"Sir Matthew, may I ask, don't you have a child?"

Matthew swallowed the slice of meat he had in his mouth. "Call me just Matthew, please." The queen responded with a smile and a small nod. "And yes, I do. Yet I came here to do a visit, not to babysit a ten-years-old nuisance."

Mello lifted his head to the news. He home studied and hardly left the house, and whenever he did, he was close to his parents, so he didn't have any friends his age.

He did have a good relationship with the biology teacher, but he suspected it was because she is an unmarried woman with no children, and treated him like he was her own.

"Oh, I doubt he really disturbs you," Ada said and laughed lightly.

"But he does, actually. A child, such an annoying thing. I wish I could have had him when he was older, or more mature."

"Sir Matthew."

"Just Matthew, really, I insist."

"OK. Matthew, we have our own child, and as you may know, he is around the same age as your son."

"I'm quite aware of it, my pretty Ada." The german king glared at him. "But my child is different than yours, even if I am sure yours gives trouble from time to time."

Mello bowed his head down again, bottom lip tucked under his upper one in shame, as if he just got caught red-handed.

"He might be a little trouble-maker, but rarely, and it's expected at his age. He is usually a really quiet boy. He studies hard and is considered one of the smartest in this region, especially when taking into consideration his young age."

"Quiet, you say?" The redhead placed his knife and fork aside. "I've heard that quiet children suffer from inner trouble. Is he hit, abused...?"

"What a silly question. We do not believe that laying a hand on a child in order to harm him is in any matter correct." The queen looked at him strangely.

"Foolish thing to say. Every kid needs to learn the hard way, since they ignore the easy way."

"Are you saying you hit your child, Sir Jeevas?" Her voice came out tense and her look turned to horrified.

"I do teach him something once in awhile."

"That's enough," said Abelard, not loud enough.

"My kid is stupid, in any matter, and has no qualities."

"Stop," the royal blond said louder, but still not calling the foreigner king's attention.

"I'm actually afraid of him having to rule my lands one day!" He chuckled, raising his glass of wine. "He is so careless, dumb, indecisive, frightened. Imagine him! Ruling a whole kingdom!"

"Stop, that's enough!" The king of Germany hit his fist on the table, making Mello lift his head once again and everyone in the room to stop and stare at him. He got up, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward, looking deeply inside the green eyes that were shaking with fear. "I'm proud of my son as much as I'm proud of this country, and I believe you should be, too. I will not, and I repeat, I will  **not**  accept you insulting and disrespecting your child in my home ever again."

There was a small moment of silence filled with respect. This short speech reminded everyone present why this is the king that everyone adore. Matthew took a napkin, cleaned his mouth and got up.

"I'll excuse myself, if you don't mind."

Abelard took a deep breath. "I believe that's the wise thing to do."

"It was nice coming here, Abelard." He then proceeded to walk to the queen by the table, kneeling and taking her hand and kissing it. "You are as beautiful as they say, and even more. I will have you mine." He placed her hand on top of the left side of his chest. "I promise you with my whole heart." Then he got up and left, leaving those words floating in the air.

"What a ridiculous man," scoffed Ada, getting up herself. "I'll be taking a shower. Charice," she directed her words to one of the maids. "Come with me and fill my bathtub with rosemary bubbles soap." The maid nodded and followed her steps.

"Dad, is what that guy said true?" Mihael asked, innocent and curious as ever.

"About what, boy?"

"About making mom his."

"No." He sipped the last drop of wine he had in his glass. "Do not think about it, little fellow. Your mom won't leave your dad for any man in the world, nor will I let anyone take her."

Mello got down from his chair and walked to his dad, wrapped his arms around his hip- since he was not any taller- looked up at him and smiled. "You and mom have the best love in the world. I wish one day I'll have it too."

Smiling back, Abelard patted the child's head. "You will, and she will be your queen, helping you with the kingdom you're going to inherit one day."

Placing a small kiss on the top of his head, he finally left, knowing nothing good will come out of this meeting today, leaving Mello unaware of the danger that approaches them.

Saturday that same week, five days after the meeting, six minutes after Mello opening the present his dad bought him on his travel to the neighbouring country, an unknown, sharp and taunting sound to the child was heard. The father picked Mihael up and carried him running, demanding from the maids to drop everything and go to the shelter as well. Mello was holding to his new toy firmly, not understanding the whole rush and confusion, which left him only more confused and anxious. What did the sound mean, why did everyone run? Why do they look terrified? He wasn't released from his father's hold, and was actually glad to not have been, since the sudden exploding sounds came and scared him, making him drop his toy and cling to the shirt of the man who held him.

"Dad, what's going on?" He cried to him.

"Just some kabooms, kiddo. Do not worry," he said with a calm voice. Deep inside he was afraid as well, but he knew he had to keep himself cool in order for his child to be like that as well.

A few minutes later (that seemed like eternity), the bombing stopped. They got out of the safe room, just to come across a worried mother, hurrying to see if her child was okay. Her calm and sweet facade, the permanent one that she wore, and her red lips that were in an eternal curl upwards, vanished, mouth gaped in horror and eyes wide in shock, her forehead wrinkled with worry, even her golden hair seemed like a mess; she seemed like a complete stranger, like she has been replaced with a version of herself that have gone through rough times and the years haven't done her well. After Mello being checked twice, she turned her attention to her husband. One look said it all, and as she took the kid to her own hands, the man rushed away, heading to the General, having to prepare their defense, and most unfortunate, plan a war.

"Mommy..."

"Yes, dear?" She kissed his forehead.

"I left my toy inside the other room..."

She didn't believe it at first, but is it possible that her child, such a young person, was more calm and relaxed than both she and the king together? Probably because he did not know what this situation was. Or maybe it meant that in the future, he'll stay cool and think on what to do if he'll rule in the middle of a war, instead of rushing to action.

She retrieved the toy and went to his room. Putting both down on the big carpet besides his bed, she looked at him from above.

"Mom?"

"Yes, love?"

"Why are you smiling?"

She hasn't noticed until now. "Just... Because," she said simply.

"Then... Will you stay and play with me?"

She laughed and sat down, nodding. "Show me what this toy does."

_'What a child...'_

 

 

" **Out!** " He yelled to the servants. But when he commanded to banish the child, they all refused. He was about to fire them all when his Right Hand came to talk to him.

"They will not do so since he's both a child and your successor. You cannot get rid of him until you find yourself a replacement, not after expelling the queen."

"My replacement is that's woman's daughter," he informed in a growl.

"First, my mighty king, it's a boy." The king's eyebrows arose in surprise. "Second, it needs to be certain. Since we do not know if you win this war or not, you cannot guarantee anything, so the child must stay meanwhile. Someone has to be here to take the throne. And, please-" he raised his hands, gesturing for the king to slow down and listen before speaking. "I know you do not want him in your place. But you cannot leave your country void of authority. He is a mere figure to the people, a backup."

Matthew gave him a sharp glare. He got up from his chair and walked to the kid, standing tall in front of him and looking down at him. He looked so much like his mother- the unsuccessful woman the king married, with no beauty, no charm, no intelligence, and no future- that it gave him shivers of disgust.

"So I try to better my luck, and what do I get?"

His kid looked up at him with the same deep dark blue eyes as his mother's.

"A pathetic child who doesn't even deserve to be here." He pulled his arm back and slapped the small cheek with the back of his hand. The child fell to the ground, tears quickly rolling down his face. "So useless. Can't even hold your tears, can you?"

He wanted to spit at the small figure, yet thought he wasn't even worth it, and simply left the child there, with his pale cheek turning burning red.

The next day, both the king and the kid travelled to Germany, where the two kings and the queen will hold a meeting about this war.  
"Mihael, go outside to play with Matthew's child."

Mihael nodded and went to the king. "Where is your son, sir?"

The look on his face made the american king doubt he really isn't a girl. "Somewhere outside." Then he went in, leaving Mello outside.

The small blond prince walked around the wide garden, looking for any living being. He found ants, a rabbit, and even a straying cat, but no child. He decided to go to the river that ran from the forest in the back, pathing parallel to the house, and down the forest at the front-right side of the castle. He usually would put his feet inside the cold water and lay down on the grass when he was tired of the isolation in the castle, until his mother came looking for him to go back inside.

When he got closer, he noticed a figure, sitting with his feet inside the water. He was leaning forward, with his elbows on his legs, looking into the water

"Are you the american prince?" Mello asked, five meters away from him. The figure turned his head to Mello's direction. His brunette hair shined in the sun, and the blue eyes were vibrant, even though they were dark.

"Yes. Are you the german prince?" He asked back. Mello nodded.

"My name is Mihael. Mihael Keehl. But most of the people call me Mello. Well, besides my mom, when I do something bad and she gets mad."

The brunette kid chuckled and reached his arm forward in a greet. "My name is Mail Matthew Jeevas, but some people call me Matt, since it's my middle name. Well, Matthew is, but no one says it in length." He suddenly shut up, his lips in a thin line, as if restraining himself from continuing his babbling.

The blond shook his hand and smiled. He took his shoes off and got his feet inside the cold water as well, sitting by Mail's right side. "Were you looking at something before?"

"Yes. There were some colorful fish, and it's funny how they swim faster in a river than in a lake."

It was something Mello never noticed, actually, even with the countless hours by the river. He was about to remark at his observation, when he saw the big red mark on his face. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Mail asked back.

"This," said Mello, pointing to the cheek.

"Oh..." Matt placed a hand gently over it and bowed his head down, ashamed. Mello remembered the conversation about the USA king's child.

"Your father hit you, didn't he?"

Matt nodded embarrassingly.

"Why? Is it because you don't behave?"

The brunette shook his head.

"Is it because you don't organize your room?"

Another shake.

"Because you don't take a shower? Because if it is-"

"No, Mihael. My father hits me because I remind him of my mom so much. Because I'm useless, with no appeal, my hair is ugly and my eyes are ugly and I'm boring and average and I'm not good enough." He turned his head look to him, red circles around his eyes. "Because I'm not strong enough to hold my tears."

Mello at first was tense at the other's sharp words, but then relaxed. With a wet and cold hand, he brushed his burning red cheek. "I don't believe it. I mean, every child cries for stupid things, don't they? And of course you'll cry of you get hit, or if your own father says such stuff about you." Then he proceeded to brush the hair from in front of his eyes, his gentle gestures similar to what his own mom does when he is upset. "And he's wrong. Your eyes are very pretty. Prettier than my mother's."

Mail slightly smiled. "Thank you," he whispered. Mello smiled back.

"That's what friends are for."

"Friend?" Mail asked suddenly. "Are we friends?"

"Yes..." Mello blushed a bit. "I mean, if it's alright with you..."

"Yes," Mail said hurriedly. "I'd love to be your friend."

They exchange one last smile before the redhead king showed up near them, walking stiffly right towards Mail, then aggressively pulling him up.

"Don't ruin the child, Mail. At least he has some use. Now come, we are going home!"

Instead of yelling of pain for being yanked up and the tight, strong grip on his thin arm, he turned back and smiled at Mello. "I'll send you a letter, Mihael! It was nice to meet you!"

Mello waved back. "I'll be waiting."

Mello put on his shoes and went back inside, overhearing his mother talking loudly, which she did when worried and stressed, unable to contain her distressing feelings in her voice.

"I will not agree to this."

"I do not want you to, darling. But you might need to come in action to end this."

"I will not give up my family and sale my bod-" She spotted Mello standing at the door, interrupting her own sentence. "Mihael, dear."

He was wrapped in her tight hug. "Mom..."

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling back and straightening his clothes again.

"What did the king want?"

"Nothing, honey..."

"Ada, we can't keep it from him."

"We will not tell this stuff to a ten years old boy, Abelard."

"Hey," Mello exclaimed. "I'm old enough. What is it?"

She took a deep breath. The king placed one hand on her shoulder.

"It seems like Mr. Jeevas wants your mother to marry him, Mello. And he will not stop until he wins."


	2. An Unfinished Letter

Mello was concerned about what his parents told him, yet didn’t understand why it was so bad.

“Because you are still just a kid, Mihael...” Said his mother, running her hand through his hair.

“I’m not a kid!” He protested.

“I know.” Ada smiled gently at him. “But you shouldn’t be worried. Just get some sleep, ok?” She tucked him in and kissed him goodnight. Mello curled under the covers. It was one of the roughest winter nights this year, beginning with heavy rain, which stopped at some point in the middle of the night and instead started to snow. By morning, everything was covered under a thick, white blanket. The river lost its flow, frozen much like the lake. Mello was sitting on the floor, looking out the window at the ever-falling snowflakes outside.

“Are you waiting for anything special, dear?” His mother asked, kneeling by his side and handing him a hot cocoa mug.

“A letter,” he said, accepting the warm gift.

“Oh, really? From whom, if I may ask?”

He gave her a proud smile. “From Mail, the prince of USA. He promised he’ll send me a letter, because we are friends.”

“Now doesn’t that sound nice...” She held the other hot cocoa mug between her hands and left the tray on the floor, looking outside the window with him.  “Though, I don’t think you will be able to receive your letter today, honey.”

Mihael looked at her in shock. “Why not?” He demanded to know.

“Since it’s snowing, dear, and all the roads are probably blocked. No mailman would be put to walk in this weather.”

Mello looked disappointed. “But it’s a letter to the prince! They have to deliver to the royal family, don’t they? Especially when it’s from a different kingdom!”

Ada laughed her famous sweet laugh, one that was heartily, not offensive nor diminishing. “Mello, my love, that’s the thing. You are a young prince, so no letter can be as urgent as if it was to the king himself. And were that to arrive, they would use a digitalizer to send it over, through an electronic machine, the colorful one in your dad’s office. That’s what they do with high-priority mail that cannot be delivered at the same instant, and the minute it’s possible, they deliver the original document.”

Mello just leaned his chin on the windowsill with a heavy sigh, looking defeated. “This isn’t fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Mello...” She said quietly, perhaps more to herself than to him.

It took the snow a week to truly cease and start melting, and each day Mello was growing more upset. Two days after the snow had completely melted, he still got no letter, and there was no sign of the mailman either.

“Mom, do you think he lied to me?” Mihael was sitting on the library floor, lifting his head from the book he wasn’t really reading.

“Who, and about what?” His mother asked, peeking from above the book that she was reading besides him on the floor, back to an arm chair and legs brought up to her chest.

“Matt, mom. You think he lied about sending me a letter and us being friends?”

Was it her imagination, or was he more worried about his friend than the war that had begun?

“I doubt he did, Mello. Don’t heat your little head worrying about it.”

He sighed just as the doorbell rang. Mello threw himself up on his feet and ran to the door, sliding on the ledge of the staircase and across the marble floor in the entrance, opening the big wooden door before the butler could even reach for the doorknob. On the other side was his life savior: A 1.90 meter tall man, with a bag full of letters. In his hand was a pile of correspondences, tightened together with an elastic rubber. He handed Mello the letters, slightly bowed and went away.

Mello fished out of the pile 5 letters that were directed to his father or his mother, and the rest, a total of 4 letters, he took to himself. Closing the door in his room, he spilled the letters to the floor and opened them in a chronological order.

The first letter was short:

 

**Hey, Mello.**

**I don’t really know what to write, since it’s practically the first letter I’ve ever written.**

**It’s a bit awkward to admit, but I wrote this letter to you before I wrote one to my mother...**

**Anyway,**

**How are you?**

**Everything here is fine.**

**I try avoiding my father. I hope that by the next time I see you, I’ll be bruiseless.**

**Well...**

 

**Write soon,**

 

**Matt**

 

He then proceeds to open the second letter.

 

**Heya.**

**You haven’t returned my other letter, so I sent this one in case there was an accident or a mishap in the mail.**

**I heard of the war that my father started, and I’m really sorry. Is everything alright? You aren’t hurt, are you?**

**Maybe I’ll succeed to convince him otherwise.**

 

**Hope you answer this letter,**

 

**Matt**

 

The third letter was longer, but not by much.

 

**Hey.**

**I’m starting to get worried. Are you or your family hurt? I don’t believe so. My father won’t do anything to physically harm your mother. You** **r** **father can get help, and you... Well, I simply believe you are a surviving type.**

**I eavesdropped, and I might come to visit you at some point, maybe in a week, maybe less, maybe more.**

**I’m really looking forward to coming. Maybe we can catch up on everything we missed.**

 

**I’ll be waiting,**

 

**Matt**

 

The last one was terse and clear.

 

**I don’t quite know why aren’t you answering, but the war, together with the awful weather might answer it. Yet the first letter I sent was before any of those, so...**

**If you are implying we stop talking, I'd accept it.**

 

**Thank you anyway.**

 

The fourth letter was sent three days ago. He had to send a letter ASAP if he was still planning on keeping touch with Matt. The longer he waits, the more his friend will give up on their friendship, and Mello didn’t want his first one to end so quickly.

He took a paper and a pen, and started writing. He explained what happened, the weather condition, how the mail system delivery worked, the letters arriving just now and that he didn’t want to stop talking to him. He said they are fine, and that he is looking forward to when he comes to visit. The letter was two pages long, but it was worth it. He sent it that same day, not allowing any delay.

“Are you happier?” Ada tucked him in bed. Mello was smiling, and the rain was tapping gently against the window.

“Yes, I am.” He closed his eyes, filled with warmth that pleasantly heated his body, even if the weather was icy-cold.

“I’m glad my baby is good.” She kissed his forehead and walked away, leaving a crack open to let light enter the room, since Mello was still afraid of the dark.

Yet with Matt’s letters, he had all the light he needs.

 

 

 

They exchange letters for a month before the USA’s king’s second visit. Leaving his kid abandoned in the garden again, he went to the meeting. Matt, on the other hand, was already running shoeless to the lake, where Mello was waiting for him. The lake itself was still frozen, but Mello was sure that the ice was hard enough to walk over it.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk on it barefoot, Matt. Your feet will freeze.”

Matt waved that advice away. “If it’s too cold I’ll simply put the shoes back on.”

Mello sighed and nodded. He stood still on the ice, then started walking slowly, verifying the ice a step ahead before moving forward. “If you aren’t careful enough, you will step on a weak spot and crack the ice, falling into the freezing water.”

Matt wasn’t the type to really listen, and that got him in trouble with his father a few times. He preferred to check for himself before drawing any decisive conclusions. When Mello was in the middle of the lake, Matt jumped on the ice to reach him.

“Be careful!” He exclaimed before Matt landed. But the landing was safe, and Matt simply laughed. He walked slowly at first, but then faster, deciding it’s not that dangerous. When he was about to laugh at Mello’s over-concern, the ice beneath his feet started cracking and giving in, dropping him into the bitterly cold water.

“MATT!” Mello yelled, running forward and stopping himself before sliding inside the hole as well. He fell on his knees and bent down, reaching a hand and grabbing the shirt the brunette was wearing. He succeeded to pull him back up and carry him all the way to the grass, which was not warm, but warmer than the lake.

Matt’s lips were already turning worriedly purple, and his shaking just wouldn’t stop. Mello started getting really worried. He took his sleeveless cream-colored vest and wrapped it around Matt, rubbing over the vest and his cheeks to try and heat him up with his hands. He didn’t know how much time have past. It was probably very little time, but since he was worrying so much it felt like forever, and the used-to-be-red lips weren't returning to their color by the time they should have already. Desperate, he bent his head down and pressed his warm lips against the cold ones, closing the other’s nose in an attempt to repeat what was demonstrated to him in first-aid class, breathing into him. He pulled his head back once he felt the other lips open in a gasp, avoiding Matt’s head to knock against his own while the other gasped and coughed, rolling on the side and grabbing on the grass to steady himself.

Another eternity had passed for Mello until Matt sat up and tried to return the vest to his friend. “No, Matt. You are keeping it. I don’t need you to have a sudden freeze like that in the middle of your way home, with that father of yours...”

Mail didn’t argue, instead put the vest on correctly, sliding his hands through the arm-holes. “Speaking of the devil,” he said, pointing his head to the palace, from where his father was angrily walking towards him. Once he reached them, he yanked Mail up by the back of his new vest.

“Get up, you no good. What do you think you are doing here, so close to him? You will ruin him in the end. Such an idiot. Why the hell are you wet? God’s sake. You’ll see what’s the cost for destroying the things I buy you with my own money. Now come, we are going home!”

“A letter,” Matt called to Mello behind him. “In a week max,” he promised. That’s all he managed to say before being pushed into the car and away from Mello.

Mihael entered the castle. Once again, his parents were discussing loud enough for him to hear.

“You have to ask for the french king’s help, Abelard. He will help you for sure! And so will the other countries, especially for such a foolish reason!”

“I cannot, Ada. It might be a foolish reason, but many agree to it. Once I lose you, they will be fighting between them to have you.”

“That’s nonsense! Don’t let him distraught you. They are not as greedy. We are an alliance, for heaven’s sake.”

“It’s not the first time someone has shown interest in you, Ada. I will not risk that. The Battle of Trojan started exactly like this.”

“The Battle of Tro-!” Frustration words flew out of her. They were probably in norwegian, since it’s a language she used a lot while talking to herself or saying stuff she shouldn’t near other people. It was the most valuable thing she ever learned as a girl, she always says. It really was.

Mello decided to leave before they notice, and he made his way upstairs, filling the bathtub and taking a warm shower to melt the ice from his frozen bones. When he finished, he lied under the heavy covers and quickly drifted to sleep.

 

 

 

“Are you mailing that kid?”

The king appeared much taller when the viewpoint was from the floor. His ginger hair seemed like it was burning as the lamp behind him made a strange halo around his head. His green eyes reflected anger, and he was determined to teach a lesson to the person who made him feel that- That’s why Matt was on the floor, holding to his recently kicked stomach.

“Answer me!”

He knew that if he won’t say anything, he’ll get beaten more, and probably won’t be allowed to see Mello again. Yet if he will admit it...

The grown man shifted his leg backwards, getting ready to send it forward strongly again, when Mail’s desperate and hurt voice was heard. “Y-Yes! Yes, I do!”

Matthew, tall and frightening above him, was only getting angrier. “You filthy pig! What are you thinking? Do you really think you are good enough to exchange letters with that woman’s kid? I want to have her, and if my stupid kid will ruin her’s, you will pay for it.”

Before leaving, he finally released the kick he was holding back. Mail fell flat to the floor again, not managing to touch his belly anymore; it ached like a thousand slaps.

 

 

 

Mello started playing by the door ever since he finally received the letters from Matt. He had sent his own letter, now waiting for the response. Luckily, the mailman’s trip was today. The mailman arrived earlier than expected, and he greeted Mello with a smile. Mihael ran inside, leaving all the other letters on the entrance table, and locked himself in his room to read.

 

**I want to start this letter by saying that talking to you has been great these past few weeks, Mello. :)**

**But I’m afraid we won’t be able to talk so frequently.**

**Anyway, I do not want to disturb you with that. As long as we will still be able to talk, right?**

**I still think it’s funny, how the snow is different here from the USA. It’s winter here as well, but the palace is located pretty close to the mail post actually, so if it is delayed, it’s by a day or two only. And my place is in the warmer parts of our land, so it never snows that much.**

**I had an idea. I noticed a wide field behind your palace on my last visit, and there is a big forest as well. I say we go picnic there sometime! It will be really fun, and we might get to talk more.**

**I’m really excited to meet you again.**

**And I forgot, but I wanted to thank you for saving me that day by the lake.**

**I’m really happy, and I am extremely grateful.**

**I’ve been reading this book. I saw it in my library, and the cover had a man that looked like older-you. It’s not the best, I guess, you know I’m not a reader like you, but it’s nice. It’s a romance. It got me thinking, I guess, which is why I’m telling you about it.**

**It’s about a man that finds a woman on shore. She is from a crashed ship. A pirate! But she is injured, and he takes care of her. She is a rebel, she rejects him and constantly runs yet reappears. She makes his life a mess. But he always waits for her, because the mess she makes always leads back to him, and he knows it’s love. And he knows his patience and acceptance towards her lifestyle is also love.**

**It’s really cheesy, but I liked it. And this all love thing... The description makes me wonder about me, about my own feelings towa** \--

 

There was a hole with black powder around it at the rest of the paper, the pages were wrinkled and dirty, slightly ripped on the edges. It made Mello wonder what happened. This time he used a fancier paper, and wrote in a better handwriting. It was late noon when he succeeded to convince his father to get one of the servants to go to the post office.

“I need to go to town anyway in order to buy some groceries... It will be no problem,” said Charice, his mom’s personal maid. She took the letter happily and went out.

The late afternoon turned to night, the night to day, day to night, night to day... That’s how it went on, for over a month. This time it didn’t snow as much as before, and the mailman arrived to deliver the letters as scheduled. Every Time, Mello would snatch it from the guy’s hand and run all the way to his father’s office, already looking through almost all the letters. By the time he arrived there, he had a disappointed expression on and used to throw the letters on the big brown oak desk. Then he would go back to his room, usually sitting in the corner sulking with a pout.

“Am I a bad person?”

The crystal blue mature eyes looked up from the paper on her desk. “What?”

“Do I have any bad quality that’s really awful?”

She took her glasses off and crossed her legs, leaning forward to the kid who held the dolls still. Usually he would play with them on her office’s floor, create a whole universe around their adventures; but this time, as his heart felt heavy, there was no excitement in the play, no story being told.

“As far as I know, my Mello is perfect inside-out.”

“Then why isn’t he sending me a letter back?” He looked up. The blue eyes seemed shinier than usual, and his face was rosed.

She stayed still for a moment, looking at her son. Is this how she looked when Abelard and her just started dating? Always on edge, everything seemed like an execution or a forevermore. Is this love? Childish and friendly, but still love.

“I’ve sent him a letter once a week, and there is no response. Am I just being annoying?”

She gave a soft, light chuckle. “Mihael, Mihael, Mihael... Listen, I do not know what’s the problem, but don’t be too worried, OK? I’m sure he’s just really busy with his studies, like you get sometimes.”

Mello didn’t know what to respond, and actually found comfort in the thought of Matt ignoring him _just for now_ , as long as that’s what it was- just for now.

He slowly got back to his usual routine, studying, getting to know his country, learning, playing, writing, and day by day, dying a little more on the inside.


End file.
